


Practice Makes Perfect

by Ren



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9239321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren/pseuds/Ren
Summary: Yuri finds out Otabek never kissed anyone and offers to practice with him. (That's what good friends do, right?)





	

**Author's Note:**

> For yoiweek2017, Day 1: Le Parfum des Fleurs (prompt Beginnings and Firsts)

"Never?!"

Otabek keeps his eyes on the tv screen. "Never," he repeats. Is it Yuri's impression or are the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment? "Is it so strange?"

Yuri leans back against the couch, staring at Otabek out of the corner of his eye. "A bit," he admits. "I thought you'd have for sure."

"What about you?"

Yuri stammers, caught unaware. "I haven't kissed anyone either. But it's different."

"How so?"

Otabek turns around and Yuri blushes under his eyes. "Because… you're older, to begin with!"

"Not that much older," Otabek says. His lips curl into a slight smile, one of those rare smiles he saves for quiet moments together, and Yuri can't help but smile back.

 _How_ has Otabek never kissed anyone? "But… but you're…" Yuri makes a vague gesture towards him, unable to put his thoughts into words.

Otabek is just – so handsome. His skating has evolved so much lately, nobody can take their eyes away when he's on the ice, and he's collecting new fans even faster than Yuri. Even Mila has a huge, ridiculous crush on Otabek, despite the fact that she only met him once. How is it possible that Otabek has never…?

"It just didn't happen." Otabek shrugs, but there's a small frown between his eyebrows. "I don't think I could just casually kiss anyone. I'd rather wait for the right person."

That's such a sappy thing to say, but somehow, coming from him, it doesn't sound sappy at all. It sounds nice. Yuri feels a sudden pang of envy towards this 'right person' Otabek is waiting for. "I suppose you have a point." Yuri turns sideways on the couch, curling his legs under him, and gives up the pretence of watching the film. "But isn't it sort of risky?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you want your first kiss to be with someone you love… what if it goes horribly? What if you're so bad at kissing that they dump you?"

Otabek's face falls, so much that Yuri wants to laugh out loud. But he doesn't laugh. He doesn't want Otabek to think he's making fun of him. The truth is that Yuri spoke thinking about himself – what if _Yuri_ is bad at kissing?

"Do you think I'm bad at kissing?" Otabek asks.

"Dunno. You never know until you try, don't you?"

Yuri never had anyone like Otabek – a friend to whom he can talk about anything. There's no way Yuri would be able to have this conversation with anyone else.

Otabek's frown deepens. "What if I _am_ bad at kissing?"

"Then you just practice." After all, Otabek could be the poster boy for 'practice makes perfect': he went from a kid with no particular talent to a Grand Prix Final medallist, one of the top figure skaters in the world. There's no doubt that Otabek can do pretty much anything, and kissing seems easier than skating anyway.

Otabek sinks down on the cushions, still frowning, and doesn't say anything.

"Would you like to?" Yuri asks. Otabek looks at him in confusion, and suddenly Yuri isn't sure why he spoke at all. Saying it out loud, it sounds like a stupid idea. "Would you like to practice with me?"

"Practice… kissing?" Otabek repeats.

Yuri can't read his expression at all. Is he weirded out? Is he going to laugh? Pouting, Yuri picks up a pillow and hugs it close, half-hiding himself behind it. "Right, you said you want to wait. Forget I said anything."

"Yura?" Otabek waits until Yuri lifts his head, then clears his throat. "Um. Would you… want to? With me?"

They're both blushing now. Yuri squeezes the pillow so hard, he's afraid it'll burst. "Sure. Why not?" he says, trying to affect a casual tone. "Just for practice."

"Right."

"Is that a yes?"

Otabek turns around, propping one elbow against the back of the couch. He nods.

Suddenly, Yuri's throat is dry and his palms are sweating like crazy. This is just practice, he tells himself, this is perfectly normal. He tosses aside the pillow and leans forward, masking his nervousness with bravado. Then he stares at Otabek's lips and his mind goes blank.

Otabek tilts his head slightly. "I'm going to close my eyes," he says, and he's so close that Yuri feels his breath over his lips.

Yuri nods. Otabek closes his eyes and leans in, and Yuri has just barely time to do the same before their lips brush together. It's just a soft touch, feather-light. Yuri would say it's almost like a kiss on the cheek, except his heart is beating far too loud.

They part, far too quickly, and Yuri tries not to look too disappointed when he opens his eyes.

"That was…" Otabek says, and Yuri holds his breath, nervous about what Otabek might say. Was it bad? Did Otabek hate it? "Um. Maybe we could… try again?"

"Yeah," Yuri breathes out. "I don't think we got it right."

This time Otabek puts his hands on Yuri's shoulders, holding him close while they kiss. His mouth is slightly parted. Yuri does the same, and feels a thrill when Otabek's tongue slides tentatively over the seam of his lips.

Yuri doesn't know what to do with his hands. He settles on putting them over Otabek's chest, feeling his heartbeat under his palm. Otabek's heart is running fast, in sync with Yuri's. Yuri licks tentatively into Otabek's mouth and feels Otabek exhale against him.

It's nice. It's more than nice. When their lips part, Yuri feels like they did it better this time. They can still improve, though.

Neither of them says anything. Otabek curls one hand at the back of Yuri's head, tangling his fingers in the short hair there, and Yuri sighs and tilts his head back. The next kiss is deeper, longer. Otabek's tongue slides against Yuri's, traces the contour of his teeth.

Yuri sighs into Otabek's mouth. His fingers grip the soft fabric of Otabek's shirt, tugging him closer, until Yuri is almost in Otabek's lap. And wouldn't that be nice, Yuri thinks before he can stop himself. Everywhere they touch, Otabek feels warm – it's like sinking in a warm bath, or under a duvet on a cold night. Yuri could lose himself in his embrace.

Otabek's fingers shift to the nape of Yuri's neck and Yuri moans, the sound impossibly loud even with the tv in the background. Otabek stops kissing him and pulls back. Yuri blushes: what's wrong with him, making such a noise?

"Sorry," Otabek says. He wipes at his lower lip, which is shiny with saliva. Has Yuri been drooling all over him? It's too embarrassing to think about. "Did I– did I do something wrong?"

He's looking at Yuri, his eyes full of concern, and now Yuri is blushing so much, he feels like his whole face is on fire. Yuri looks down and mumbles something indistinct. His voice is so low that Otabek has to ask him to repeat.

"I said," Yuri murmurs, unable to look him in the eye, "that felt nice. Very nice."

"Oh," Otabek says in a rush of breath. "You mean… this?"

He lifts his hand, brushing Yuri's cheek with his fingers before cradling Yuri's head again. Yuri leans into the touch, eyes half-closed. "Y-yes," he stammers. And then, because he can't lie to Otabek, "You're definitely not bad at kissing."

Otabek smiles. He's so close, their foreheads are almost touching. Yuri can see flecks of hazel and gold in his brown eyes. "How do you know?" he teases. "You said yourself that you have no experience."

Yuri lets out a shaky laughter, then leans forward to nip at Otabek's lips, enjoying the way Otabek's face flushes red. "If you want to be sure, let's try again."

"Good idea," Otabek says, breathless. He kisses Yuri, swallowing his reply.

'Practice makes perfect', Yuri thinks, but for once he doesn't want perfection. Just practicing is enough.


End file.
